The Marriage Deal
by TheWritingPA
Summary: AU: Belle French is the daughter or a prominent business man who plays hostess to the New York elite. What happens when her Papa's company is about to go under? What happens when only a deal with Mr Gold will save everything she knows?
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hi there! I'm Jennifer and I'm coming back to writing with a new Gold and Belle story. I'm in LOVE with OUAT and hope you guys enjoy this story. Please read the first chapter and let me know if I should continue or try something different. Thanks!

Chapter One:

"Shit, shit, shit," Belle French muttered as she loaded the desserts into the backseat of her sky blue Lexus.

"I'm so sorry about the delay, Belle," Mr. Marrotti yelled from the doorway of his bakery.

"It's okay, Mr. Marrotti," Belle called over her shoulder. "Shit, shit, shit." She repeated in a whisper. The sweet baker's delay was going to royally mess up her day. She slammed the door and hopped around to the front seat, threw the convertible into reverse and quickly pulled into traffic. A quick glimpse in her visor mirror proved that she was in fact screwed. Her brilliant idea to run to the gym before the bakery had turned her hair into a sweaty mess and her face was devoid of makeup. Shooting a quick glance at the clock, she switched lanes and floored it. 12:05. That left her 55 minutes to get back to her house and make herself presentable for Mr. Gold. And that was if he wasn't early.

Belle shuddered at just the thought of his name. Mr. Gold was a legend in the New York area. Hell, he and Gold Industries practically owned New York. He had his hands in everything publishing, entertainment, banking, and other businesses. He was a collector by trade. He collected failing businesses and folded them into his parent company. They ended up being profitable and flourished. Of course, most of the hard working middle class workers lost their jobs in the process. Belle grimaced knowing he thought it was a fair price and one her own father's company might have to pay.

Belle had met him once at a benefit that she had long forgotten the name of. Her father had introduced her before the dinner, he had politely greeted her, and then ignored her in favor of the men and their business talk. Never mind that she could run circles around their boring notions with her innovative ideas. That master's degree from Harvard wasn't just decoration for her office wall. _Although,_ she thought, _it really did spice the place up.  
_

The car in front of her slowed and she threw up her hands in frustration. "Seriously?" She yelled out loud. She eyed her gauges and noted yes, seriously, the car was going the speed limit. She checked the oncoming traffic and made a fast, slightly hazardous maneuver around navy BMW sedan. Belle pressed the gas pedal down and prayed her good karma would buy her some time.

* * *  
Her father's house was stunning, she knew that. Its large six bedroom, five bath estate towered over the clean grass landscape. Not a blade of grass dared to be out of line. Although she would have preferred a little more chaos and bright flowers, it was impressive, which was her father's goal. She pulled the car around the back and parked at the kitchen door. Belle grabbed the small desserts and ran through the back door.

The house may not be her tastes, but the kitchen was heaven. It was always warm and welcoming with yellow walls, wood countertops, and fresh daisies on the counter.

"30 minutes. You are cutting it close, Belle. You need to stop going to Marrotti's Bakery. I don't care if he's the nicest baker in the world." Mrs. Jensen tisked as Belle set the desserts on the counter. The graying woman began lining the pastries on a silver serving dish. "I have all the hors d'oeuvres ready. Your dad requested that we open the bar for refreshments."

"Does he realize it's not even one in the afternoon?" Belle muttered as she started moving out of the room.

"I'm sure he doesn't care," Mrs. Jensen muttered right back.

Belle rushed to the front hall and to the large bar that occupied the left wall of the formal entryway. She looked at the two shelves of booze and grabbed all the bottles with the purple sticker on the bottom. Not being a drinker she had sweet talked one of the visiting bartenders into organizing the alcohol into color hierarchy. The red was for her guests and employee parties. Blue for the middle level donors and elite. And then there was purple. Purple was the good stuff. She plunked the bottles on the bar top and arranged it so the expensive labels were all showing. She pulled out a multitude of crystal glasses. Cherries and olives followed. She might not know her alcohol, but Mrs. Jensen could fill in for bartending in a pinch.

Belle took the stairs two at a time, her over exercised muscles screaming at her. She turned to the right, her wing. At 26 she craved a place of her own outside the cool, pretentious walls of her father's home. Just a small home where she could plant flowers in the front yard and paint the walls a pale calm blue. But that did not seem to be in the cards for her. Her father's job as CEO of French Enterprise led to a lot of social engagements and meetings that she organized. She called it 'social work'. She played a doting hostess to the movers and shakers of New York City and her father's business had benefited for it. It wasn't how she liked to spend her hours, but as a trade her father had allowed her to manage the publishing branch of their business. It was her baby and it had prospered in the last year. Too bad the rest of the business hadn't.

Belle stripped off her exercise wear and threw it in the hamper before stepping into the shower. She let the hot water run as she worried in circles. If Mr. Gold didn't go for their business plan thousands of people would be out of work. She and her father would survive, they had stocks and savings, but their employees would be out in the cold. She washed off quickly, threw on make-up and quickly blew her hair dry. She tried the still damp strands up into a pony tail with a black bow. She pulled a simple blue Calvin Klein dress that fit her well, but had a slightly flared skirt that felt summary. Adding black flats, she rushed down the stairs just as doorbell sounded. Belle took a deep breath and moved towards the large oak door.

"Mr. Gold, welcome to our home," Belle greeted as she opened the door wide. She smiled as she took the man in. She had met him that once before but he still surprised her. The man of legend who always seemed twenty feet tall but was actually slim and average height, only 4 inches over her diminutive 5'6. His hair was long, slightly shaggy in a way only rich business men could get away with. It made him look younger but his face was lined slightly showing her was in his early forties. He was good looking, in an older, David Bowie kind of way.

His brown eyes skimmed over her body before landing on her face. It was the politest assessment she had ever gotten from any of her father's business partners. Respectful. He nodded at her briefly before she stepped back to allow him entrance. "My father should be in his office. Before I take you there can I get you a drink?" Belle motioned to the bar that was now expertly stocked.

"It's a little early for that I think, dearie," He spoke for the first time. She caught his accent, not British, Scottish she decided. She also caught the sound of disapproval that rang clearly in the empty room.

The disapproval, while deserved, set her off balance. "Well, may I get you something else? Coffee?"

"Tea, if you have it?" He requested politely. "I'd like to get on with this business, if you don't mind Miss French. I'm a very busy man."

"Of course," Belle verbally stumbled and motioned for him to follow her. "I hope finding our house wasn't too difficult."

"Not at all," he replied, his tone dismissive and curt.

_Okay, apparently he wasn't the chatty type. At least that means he probably won't try to grab my ass. Sometimes things just worked out. _Belle shivered as she thought of the last of her father's chatty business associates and his wayward hand.

She opened her father's study door, "Papa, I have Mr. Gold here to see you."

"Thank you, Belle," Maurice replied moving around the desk to greet him. "It's a pleasure to see you Mr. Gold. Has Belle been attentive?"

"Quite," Mr. Gold allowed. "She was going to get me some tea, right dearie?" He asked raising his eyebrows at her.

_Dismissed_, she thought in annoyance. She left the room and marched to the kitchen. "Stupid archaic Neanderthals," she muttered. She was use to the treatment of course, but she had made a vow a long time ago to never lose the anger that came with the dismissal. She was responsible for the most profitable section of her father's company. She had a Master's in business from Harvard. However, one look at her trim figure, shiny brunette locks, and blue eyes, and none of that mattered. She was merely decoration for her father's meetings.

"Mr. Gold not interested in the bar?" Mrs. Jensen questioned knowingly as Belle stormed into the kitchen.

"Of course not, it's 1 in the afternoon," Belle laughed scornfully. "He would like tea. Do we have any? I doubt he had Lipton in mind."

"In the cupboard, although it's probably older than you are."

"Well, it'll have to do," Belle answered rummaging until she found an old container of Earl Gray Tea. She looked for the seldom used teapot but couldn't find it so she grabbed a coffee mug, filled it with water, and microwaved it. Hell, if she knew how to make tea. She removed the cup and dunked the tea bag into it until it turned a medium brown. _Good enough_. She dumped it into the tea cup Mrs. Jensen had waiting and hit the door.

"Your tea, Mr. Gold," Belle greeted as she pushed into the study. She could feel the tension in the room before she looked at her angry father's face. She noted the business plans were still in the folder she left them in. Her father's rage no doubt clouded his judgment. Their enterprise was hemorrhaging money and they owed a debt to Mr. Gold, due in under 3 weeks. The business plan was their last resort to obtain an extension.

"Thank you, Miss French," Mr. Gold took the tea cup. He sipped at the liquid before grimacing and placing it on the book case next to him.

"Mr. Gold," Maurice started turning the man's focus away from her. "I asked you here to see if you would consider extending the terms of our loan."

Mr. Gold frowned as he took his seat in front of her father's desk. He made himself comfortable and although he was not in the chair behind the desk, he controlled the room. "Why would I do such a thing? Your company is floundering. I don't see anything that could entice me."

Belle moved to rest her hip on the bookcase behind the pair, hoping she could ease drop on the meeting. She watched her father pull out the business plan and lay it out in front of Mr. Gold.

Mr. Gold, to be fair, looked over the documents for many minutes. "Impressive," he finally commented and Belle let out a breath she had been holding. "Whoever drew up these plans had many good ideas. Turning the publishing house into your bread winner is smart. Closing the failing music business is reasonable, although funneling those workers into other departments is sentimental. Hazardous if you ask me. You can cut personnel and additional spending."

"The goal was to keep as many of our staff on as possible. If you notice we can cut both the music and motion picture department and relocate them into audiobooks and advertising. If we are expanding we can train those who would like to stay on new mediums." Belle pointed out.

"At what cost? Why not fire them and hire people with natural talent?" Mr. Gold questioned still looking at the plans. "No matter, the loan is due in three weeks. You won't have time to implement them."

"Then buy the company," Maurice floundered pulling out another set of papers that Belle hadn't seen before. "You can buy the company, fire who you want, take on which divisions you want."

"Papa!" Belle cried out. "You can't do that. Think of all of your employees and their families."

"Quiet, girl," Maurice ground out between clenched teeth.

Mr. Gold looked between them his brows and mouth twisted in amusement. "I don't believe I'd like to buy the company either. Even with the improvements and redistribution you fail to account for all details."

"What do you mean?" Belle frowned looked over the plan. She couldn't think of anything that had been missed.

"Well, dearie, because you have no idea about your father's gambling debt. That debt far outweighs the debt owed to me."

"What are you talking about? Papa? Tell him you have been going to gambler's anonymous. You haven't stepped foot in a casino in years."

"Days, actually," Mr. Gold snarked with a grin.

"Papa?" Belle looked at her father with his face turning pale. "No, Papa."

"Oh, yes, actually. He is going to bankrupt his company, oust those thousands of employees you are so worried about, all to fuel his gambling habit."

"How did you find out?" Maurice questioned angrily.

"Oh, I have my ears and eyes everywhere. You think I don't investigate my business ventures? I leave nothing to chance. My debt is due in 3 weeks, your debt to your gambling 'buddies' is due in 2. Seems like you've gambled your chances away. " He let out an indigent snicker at his own play on words.

"Please," Belle begged. "Please, is there anything you can do to help?"

"I don't buy lost causes, dearie."

"The house?"

"Belle!" Her father interrupted, "This is my house."

"And that is your company you have squandered," She fired back. "The house, cars, artwork, anything?"

Mr. Gold narrowed his brown eyes at her before racking them over her frame in a way she was very familiar with.

"Anything?" He questioned seriously.

"Anything," She confirmed.

"Alright, dearie. I choose you."

************************************************** **********  
Okay what do you think? Should I continue on? Please review and let me know


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

SORRY! I hate to be the girl who doesn't update after starting something! It just sort of happened. The reviews and views made my month! Hope you enjoy the second chapter! I'm working on the third!

Chapter Two:

* * *

Belle's blue eyes zeroed in on the man in front of her, "And what do you mean by that?" She questioned her voice cold and measured.

"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, dearie." Mr. Gold tisked, waving his finger back and forth. "I've noticed the parties and benefits you have hosted. They are all my business associates can talk about on Monday mornings," he rolled his eyes at the thought, his tone mocking. "While I find those things trivial and an utter waste of time, I hear rumors that it influences investors."

"So you want me to be your party planner? Mr. Gold I have a full time job now," She cringed at the idea of spending all of her time catering to rich people and their whims. She was good at it. He wasn't wrong. Her parties were the place for the movers and shakers of the New York business world to be scene.

"Actually, I've heard other rumors that were more sinister in nature. I'm thinking you would make an adequate wife."

"Excuse me?" Belle questioned as she felt the blood leave her face. A wife? She was 26. Not exactly a child bride but marriage was not on her carefully sculpted timeline until 30. And adequate? She felt her temper rise and her face grow hot. She was anything but adequate!

"Done," her father answered practically falling over the desk to grab the life line.

"Excuse me?" Belle questioned again, louder this time, her anger apparent. "I do not think so. No one decides my future but me, understood?"

Mr. Gold nodded, "That is my price of buying the company. I need someone to woo my investors. Apart from the fact you make a horrible cup of tea, I hear your charm is unmatched. I need someone to stand by my side and help influence potential clients. Someone to keep their wives and girlfriends busy while the real business is done."

"I could be your entertainment consultant and do all those things," Belle answered looking for a logical solution. Her mind was jumbled, unable to concentrate. It was liking spinning in circles as a kid, she couldn't focus on anything.

"Like I mentioned there are other unsavory bits of gossip that I would like to put an end to."

Belle cocked her head as she observed him trying to ponder what that riddle could possibly mean. Then it hit her. "Oh my. They think you're gay." She started laughing before she could stop herself.

"Girl," Maurice warned as he looked anxiously at the very still Mr. Gold.

"Come on," Belle challenged the silent Mr. Gold. "You cannot want a wife just to put a few gay rumors to rest? This is 2013."

Mr. Gold cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at her. "I do not care what a few narrow minded buffoons think. I do, however, care what some conservative Japanese business contacts think about doing business with my company. My offer is on the table, Miss French. Your hand in marriage for your father's company."

Belle sucked in a deep breath. The company was all on her shoulders now. The weight of responsibility pressed her into the floor. No wonder her father drank at one in the afternoon, she thought absently.

"Will you follow the business plan we offered?" Belle asked critically.

He leaned back over the desk to look at the proposed plans again before nodding slowly. "That would be allowable."

"Even the sentimental plan to reincorporate the staff that would lose their positions?" Belle prodded.

Mr. Gold's first finger and thumb came up to press on the bridge of his angular nose. "You are not going to be easy to deal with are you?"

"A worthwhile deal is never easy," She responded with a small laugh.

He sighed deeply. "I had only allotted a half hour for this meeting. I will return tomorrow so we can go over the finer points of the deal. But for now, you agree?"

Belle looked at her father who nodded furiously. _Selfish man_, she thought to herself. She noticed Mr. Gold lift the business plans off her father's desk. Their workers, if she could at least keep them from losing everything maybe it would be worth it. She could strike a deal which would allow her some independence, a time table before she could leave the business of marriage behind and go after her own goals.

"Pending a _lengthy _discussion. Yes, you have a deal." She extended her hand which Mr. Gold grasped instantly. Her breath caught in her throat. Her skin tingled as he held her hand tight. Her eyes flew to his but he merely blinked and removed his hand with no recognition.

"A deal." He agreed before leaving the office without a goodbye.

* * *

Belle sank into the large bath with a sigh. Well, the day had not gone the way she had planned at all, she though miserably. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed. Could she really marry a man she didn't know? Didn't love?

She turned her face and rested her cheek on her knees. Her life had never been perfect but this was a twist she didn't know how to maneuver. She could list all of her married friends and colleagues easily. The unmarried ones were getting harder to remember. Even in 2013 most of her undergraduate class had been after a Mrs degree instead of a masters. Most had grown up dreaming of white dresses, flowers, hearts, and butterflies. Belle frowned as she looked at the thick book on the floor next to the bath. She had never had those ambitions. Maybe it was because her mother had died when she was so young. Lifting a shoulder in a pensive shrug she knew it probably did have something to do with it. But instead of dreaming about white frothy dresses, Belle had dreamt about learning, reading, being the best in her field. It had changed often as a child. Doctor, lawyer, dolphin trainer. She snickered. She had happened into being a businesswoman by necessity not love. She had taken a job in her father's company when she was 13 and had worked her way from mailroom to corner office. It was divine providence. She got to work in her father's prestigious publishing house. While he hadn't given her free reign, he had allowed her to manage the company into profit. The only part of his company that was profitable.

_Probably the only part of the company he couldn't steal from,_ Belle brooded. She watched the books like a hawk making sure _French Publishing_ was on its game. She knew her father had an addiction problem, both with booze and gambling, but she couldn't help but be spiteful. She was the price he was happy to pay. What would happen to his gambling debts anyway? Surely Mr. Gold would pay those off also?

Belle reached over the tub and pushed the book aside to reach the small pad of paper under it. She added _Pay off Papa's Debts_ to her list of requests. She smiled coyly. Mr. Gold didn't know what he was getting into haggling with her.

Oh, Mr. Gold. It was easy to forget that if she truly said yes whole life would change. Marriage? Her? She had an independent streak a mile wide even when she was doing her Papa's bidding. He seemed nice enough, direct. He would tell her what he expected. He probably wouldn't be inhumanely cruel. Probably? She pressed her forehead back into her knees. Probably won't be inhumanely cruel wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement for the guy. It would be a marriage in name only. That would be good. _Boring but good_, she muttered to herself. She raised her hand and flexed it. She couldn't feel the tingling anymore. Weird. She shrugged. Must have been a spasm.

It wasn't like she didn't have relationship experience. She had been in a long term monogamous relationship with James Gaston, a partner in her father's movie department. He was nice enough, attentive in bed, but he hadn't rocked her world. Which was why she wasn't surprised to find him boffing his big breasted blonde secretary during his lunch break. She couldn't even muster any anger up for him, that would have taken more emotion for him then she had.

Mr. Gold scared her, but really what choice did she have? Thousands of people would lose their jobs, cars, houses. All because she didn't want to marry someone? It seemed so trivial to say no to something she never really had cared much about.

Belle climbed out the towel and dried off before grabbing the pad of paper and the pen. If she was going to say yes it was going to be one hell of a deal.

* * *

Adam Gold pressed the penthouse button in the Gold Towers elevator and rode the short ten floors from his office to his home. He rubbed his eyes absently letting his weariness fall over him. It was well after midnight and he had a seven am meeting he was not looking forward to.

The elevators chimed and he noted a young man waiting in the atrium, his front door right behind him.

"Good Evening Mr. Gold. Anything I can do for you?" The young man greeted eagerly.

"No." He answered curtly pushing past him into his suite. He didn't know the young man's name to respond anyway. He didn't know most of his employee's names for that matter.

He pushed open the front door and walked into the large foyer. He stayed in the luxurious penthouse home during the week and tried to spend his weekend at his residence outside the city. That is if work didn't keep him in town. He vaguely noted he couldn't remember the last time he'd been to the house in the Hamptons.

The suite was actually a very large home. Four bedrooms, six baths, a theater room and even a lap pool. Not that he saw much of those. He was more interested in a shower and bed. The house was quiet now, all of the worker bees had went back to their own hives. He was tired in a way he hadn't been in a long time. His work seemed to be constant and he desperately needed a break. He snorted as he removed his tie and climbed the stairs, turning left towards his wing. Mr. Gold did not take a break. He didn't even think of it. He worked and grappled and won. He was a captain of industry as he always wanted. It was _all _he wanted.

So, if that was all he wanted, did he ask that poor girl to marry him?

He sighed as he hung up his jacket. He hadn't been lying. His conservative business opportunities were shrinking. Wives and girlfriends dictated to their husbands whose party was _the_ place to be seen at. His business dinner meetings were apparently _not_ one of the places. It wouldn't matter if it didn't affect his bottom line more than he had thought possible.

It was logical. A business dealing.

However, he couldn't get the girls startled blue eyes out of his head. She was beautiful in an unassuming natural way. She wore clothing that flattered her obviously curvaceous silhouette without being ostentatious. A noble feet for a girl of twenty six. _Jesus,_ Gold swore, she was just a girl really. He was getting melancholy in his old age of forty. He wouldn't be surprised if she vanished when he went back to see her tomorrow. Although the way she shook his hand said differently. He lifted his hand off his cane and turned it back and forth. If it wasn't for her astonished reaction he would have thought he had imagined the electrical current that flickered in his hand. A feeling he had long ago put to rest. He had felt that kind of heat before and, oh, had he gotten burned.

He snorted as he changed into a pair of expensive pajama pants and brushed his teeth. He would not get burned again. This was about an acquisition. He would write parameters for their marriage contract. Obviously it would be a marriage of convenience. She could have the set of rooms next to his. She could keep her job which seemed to bring her happiness, even if the position was in name only. James Gaston had been very forthcoming about the extent Belle French actually worked. A society girl, he shouldn't be surprised she didn't deign herself to put in 8 hours a day. The office was just a place to hang her diploma, a masters after she failed to obtain her Mrs degree. He snorted.

He needed her and she needed him. They would make a strong deal and a decent match. She was nice enough, pretty enough for decoration. They would make a splash in the society columns to be sure.

He crawled into bed convincing himself that was all he needed.

* * *

Her fingers beat a pattern in the mahogany desk as Belle eyes the antique miniature clock on her desk. It had been her mother's a long time ago and had always reminded her of Alice in Wonderland with its curved decorative hands. The hands mocked her today as they made their circle. _Tick Tock Tick Tock. _

She had called Mr. Gold's people early this morning and asked for a change of venue. Meeting at her office would make it easier on both their work schedules. Sure it was an obvious power place, getting him on her own home turf. It wasn't subtle and he'd recognize it immediately but it would give her a slight edge. A slight edge against the infamous Gold. Okay she was probably screwed.

She watched the clock finally tick into place and she launched herself out of her chair. Belle smoothed the royal purple pencil skirt down as she made sure the soft white sweater was tucked in place. Calling greetings as she moved, she went towards the elevator to make the 30 level ride to the main floor.

Belle arrived in the reception area just in time to see Mr. Gold enter the large glass front doors. People actually scurried, Belle watched in amazement as she watched her male chief of human resources duck into the women's bathroom. "Mr. Gold," Belle greeted passing the poor college age receptionist who was cowering in her stilettos.

"Miss French, it's a pleasure to see you again," He murmured, accepting her hand and wrapping both of his around her own in what looked like a very familiar embrace. That of course was another reason for having their meeting at her office. If they were going to be pretending to be married they had to sell it. A public lunch meeting with just the two of them? That was positively intimate. At least if a person had any knowledge of her normally routine schedule.

"Right this way," she motioned for him to follow as they walked towards the bay of elevators. One of the elevators opened and people scampered out leaving them to ride the long 30 floors on their own. "Thank you for coming to the office."

"Well I'm going to own it soon enough, I might as well kick the tires a bit," He grinned at her as the elevator dinged their arrival. "After you, dearie."

Belle rolled her eyes and strode into the publishing office like she owned the place, because for a few more days she did and she wasn't going to let him forget that. "I had Italian food brought in, I hope you don't mind."

"That's fine," he noted dismissively.

The warm smell of Donitello's Italian food wafted to her as soon as she opened the all glass doors of the conference room. It smelled like heaven and her stomach grumbled eagerly in response. Her fingers fluttered nervously and she knew eating was going to be a chore. Belle took her normal seat at the head of the table without thinking and she looked up to see a slightly confused Mr. Gold hovering next to her.

"That's where I normally sit," he admitted sitting in the chair to the right.

"I'm not surprised," Belle agreed. "However, this is my office." She grinned at his annoyed look. "I found this new Italian place a few blocks from here," she commented trying to extend an olive branch. "This little couple from Italy immigrated years ago. It's a little hole in the wall but their garlic bread alone is phenomenal." She pulled out two plates and dished up the food before setting it in front of him.

"You do not have to serve me," He grunted, but picked up the silverware anyway.

"Good to know, we can add it to my list."

"List?"

"Well, I guess we should call them conditions really. Conditions to our deal."

Mr. Gold looked around the room before nodding. The walls were made of a thick glass giving the people outside a good view of them but keeping their conversations confidential. "I suppose we should go over your conditions as well as mine. You still agree to the marriage?"

"With these conditions," Belle agreed. "I gave you my word yesterday."

"I wouldn't have been surprised if you had changed your mind," he admitted.

"I don't give my word easily. When I give it I keep it."

Mr. Gold nodded but didn't seem convinced. "Well, first you should know I consider this to be a marriage of convenience. You will have your own set of rooms next to my own."

Belle nodded as she took a bite of her Alfredo tortellini and sighed. Nervous or not the food was too phenomenal to pass up. "I figured as much. I assume you have household staff. That won't be an issue?"

"Any staff I have in my house I've personally vetted and trust. I can't just have anyone tromping around my house."

Belle nodded and crossed off the corresponding note on her list. "What do you expect out of me?"

"As I said yesterday, I expect you to plan my parties, accompany me to business dinners, and entertain any of my guests. I only host one event at my home in the Hamptons a year. An annual benefit for a charity I am involved in. That is in 2 months. I have notes from last year's planners but I didn't raise as much money as I had hoped. I'm hoping you hosting it will change that."

"My average donation my father's benefits have been 1.5 million," Belle supplied and smirked when she noted his raised eyebrows. "Party planning isn't how I like to spend my time but I'm good at it."

"Obviously," He allowed with only a glint of sarcasm. "What's next on your lengthy list?"

"Time limits. I propose five years of marriage before we split amicably."

"Five years is fair. I expect you to faithful the entire five years. No extraneous relationships. I will honor it as well."

"Understood," She crossed two more items off her list. "I keep my full time job."

"No, next." Gold answered his tone clipped.

"That's a nonnegotiable," Belle fired back with annoyance. "I keep my job as manager of publishing. You said yourself that the publishing department is the most profitable in my father's company. I have been working hard on ways to expand it and I am not leaving my work."

"No," Gold answered again. "I'll need you to organize parties and be in charge of my social calendar. You can't possibly do both."

"I can and I will," Belle argued back. "I propose a one year trial. I'll work during that time and if I am unable to handle your social needs in addition to my job I will step down."

"I'm buying the company. What if I find your managerial skills to be lacking?" He asked tilting his head to observe her reaction.

"Fire me. I'm not asking you to treat me any differently than any other personnel. But, I want an opportunity to work. It matters to me."

Mr. Gold folded his hands and rested his chin on it as he debated the options. "6 months."

"Deal," Belle allowed before taking a bite of the tortellini, sighing as the light sauce dissolved on her tongue. She noted Mr. Gold observing her and she raised her eyebrows in question.

Mr. Gold cleared his throat "I'll want a standard prenubtutial agreement," He responded working off his own mental list. "Any income I make during the five years is off the table. You will get a yearly stipend of 3 million dollars. This will increase by 25% each year. If you make to five years as agreed you will get fifty million as a settlement. No long term alimony." He pulled out the paperwork and slid it across the table with a pen. He waited expectantly.

Belle picked it up and tore it in two without looking at it. "I'll sign any prenubtutial agreement you want but I refuse any stipend. I do not want any money other than what I earn during the time period. If I am unable to keep my job we can discuss the average pay for party planners."

"Your pay here is minimal at best. I will expect you to dress appropriately for my events, you'll need money."

"A clothing allowance with the understanding that the clothes are donated or sold with the proceeds going to your charity. I want no other money," Belle stated firmly.

"I'm not going to win this one am I?" He asked on a sigh of aggravation.

"No. I don't take what isn't mine."

"Fine. I'll have the paperwork redrawn. I didn't realize this would be so difficult." He speared a piece of pasta and ate it. She saw the surprise on his face as he tasted the food for the first time.

"I told you it was good," Belle told him smugly.

"You were right about the food," He allowed. "I propose getting married in a month. We will make a few public appearances. I have three business dinners this month and there is the Beilman wedding in two weeks. That way the transition of taking over your father's company won't make stock holders anxious. I'll leave it as for French Enterprises for a year before it is completely folded into my company."

Belle took a deep breath. Married in a month. This was the time to decide if she could really do this. She looked up at Mr. Gold.

"What's your first name?" She questioned. It hadn't been what she meant to say but it came out without thought.

He looked at her critically as if weighing whether she deserved the honor. "Adam," He admitted. "Few call me that."

"Adam," she whispered. She felt a calm settle over her as if knowing his name made him more human, attainable. "Yes, Adam, I will marry you."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, " I'll take the paper work to my lawyer. Obviously it won't be a standard contract."

"It won't be legally in forcible either. What does a contract matter? I will honor our agreement."

"I expect you will consider this insurance," He stated pushing his empty plate away and gathering his things. "I may not be able to haul you into court, but I can destroy the company your mother's family spent decades building. Didn't think I knew that did you dearie? Oh yes, you don't live up to this agreement and I will single handed destroy every piece of your mother's legacy. Have a splendid day, dearie."


End file.
